A JUMBLE IN DIVINITIES 51
out of the window. His fingers closed upon the last rung of the ladder. "That poor little Jesus," he said again, tenderly.
He moved to a corner of the room, and there were sounds of fumbling in some sort of a box. This was followed by a sharp, scratching noise, a small explosion, and the round, brown head of the lad appeared in the light of a candle. Jacquot set the bit of tallow upon the window sill and eyed it with concern. It had burned down considerably; in fact, there was left only a three-inch stump, all surrounded with drip stalactites. Jacquot frowned; then his cheeks puffed round, and out went the light. He sat down on the floor and ate his supper in the dark.
When he had finished he relit the precious bit of tallow and again searched in the rough box in the corner. From it he took several large sheets of coarse yellow wrapping paper and two pieces of charcoal. He eyed these with the same thoughtful concern he had given the candle, then, quickly dropping to the floor with his back against the wall below the window, pulling up his knees almost to his nose, he began to draw.
He drew awkwardly, with short, rusty, uncertain strokes, but with a funny intensity of effort. His eyes, beneath his wild forelock of brown hair, were closed to little slits; his tongue bulged
